


the choice is yours (prompt fills)

by tostitos



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Retail, Arcades, Being Lost, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, Fictional Religion & Theology, Fluff, Fortune Telling, Frottage, Insomnia, Light Angst, M/M, Play Fighting, Prompt Fill, Reality TV, Road Trips, Secret Crush, Secret Relationship, Sirens, Summer Camp, Tarot, Walks On The Beach
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-07-05 19:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15869820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tostitos/pseuds/tostitos
Summary: A collection of the drabbles/one shots that are fills to the prompts I’ve gotten.1. hyungkyun; 2. kihyungwon; 3. showhyung; 4. kihyuk; 5. kihyungwon; 6. kihyungwon; 7. kihyungwon [M]; 8. hyunghyuk; 9. showhyung; 10. hyungheon 11. kihyuk 12. showhyung13: jookyun (changkyun cares not for the temple until he meets a strange boy, gods au)





	1. cinderella lover

**Author's Note:**

> the first seven were written under a time limit whereas the others don't have that limitation so there's a lot of variation in the length

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: midnight

Sometimes everything feels like a fairytale. But not the end, with a ceremonious kiss and everyone joined together in support, the villain vanquished and better days just over the horizon. This feels like the beginning — when the magic is fresh but weak in the face of adversary, the glittering romance running on a timer that stops at twelve midnight.  
  
Changkyun loves a challenge, but he’s not willing to lose this one.  
  
“What’s got you thinking so hard?”  
  
A bony shoulder knocks into Changkyun’s and he looks over at the boy sitting on the pier to his right. The clouds have broken just enough for moonlight to spill like milk over Hyungwon’s skin. He still looks like royalty, with a gentle but self-assured gaze and an unworried smile and his head held high above his shoulders.  
  
Changkyun shakes his head and looks back over the lake, kicking his legs through the air. His house sits on the other side, most of the windows darkened as his family sleeps in the late hour. Just a few more weeks and it won’t be his house any longer.  
  
This won’t be the country he calls home any longer, either. And he’s come to terms with having to make new friends, with having to put effort into actually becoming fluent in another language, with leaving everything behind. Everything except the boy he only sees once the sun falls behind the horizon, the only time Hyungwon can escape parents he wouldn’t dare to tell about what he and Changkyun have built over the course of the year since Hyungwon moved into town.  
  
He hasn’t told Hyungwon he’s moving across the world, and Changkyun doesn’t know what to do but he’s running out of midnights to do it.  
  
Mustering up a disarming smile, Changkyun tightens his arm around Hyungwon’s shoulders. “You,” he finally answers.


	2. the finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: kihyun comforting hyungwon whos crying over produce 101 :3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don’t know anything about produce 101 so this might be v. inaccurate

Kihyun was expecting a few things when he came home: for there to be shoes in a disarray right in front of the door, for his dog to come running and yelping for attention, and for Hyungwon to be sprawled out on the couch, watching that music show or whatever he had been into those days.  
  
And all of those things happened. He just didn’t take into account that Hyungwon would be sprawled out on the couch, watching that music show or whatever he had been into those days, and sobbing his eyes out.  
  
“Won, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Kihyun rushed to drop his keys in the glass bowl they kept small stuff like that in and shrug off his jacket. He slung it over the back of the couch as he sat next to his boyfriend and placed a hand of comfort on his back.  
  
Hyungwon cried harder. “Cathy deserved to be in the final eleven. A-And then the...the high five with her fan.”  
  
Kihyun glanced up at the television and saw a number of women crying their hearts out. Much like his boyfriend.  
  
Patting him on the back awkwardly, Kihyun cooed a soft noise. “Maybe she’ll debut soon with her company.” He had no idea what to say. “Just because she didn’t win the show, it doesn’t mean all of her chances are gone.”  
  
“I know,” Hyungwon wailed. “But I’m still heartbroken.”  
  
Kihyun hushed him as he rubbed circles into his back. “We have some ice cream. Do you want me to get it?”  
  
“I’m sad over an idol, not going through a break up.” Hyungwon sniffed and wiped at his eyes. “But yes.”


	3. hypnotic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: showhyung at the beach

“Won, it’s dangerous to be on the beach at night.”

Hyungwon hums dismissively, continuing to walk along the shore. The waves greet his toes with shy, icy touches, the water calm even under the full moon.

“No, it’s dangerous to _swim_ at the beach at night.” He turns over his shoulder with a boyish smile that’s all round cheeks and plush lips stretched wide. “And you’d save me if I was in any danger, right, Mr. Lifeguard?”

Hyunwoo shakes his head, but even in the dim light, fondness shines bright in his eyes. “That isn’t an excuse for you to be reckless.”

Laughing, Hyungwon steps away from the water and twirls around on a foot. He reaches his hands out as he takes steps backward, forcing Hyunwoo to quicken his pace to catch Hyungwon’s warm hands that are a little rough with sand he’ll be finding everywhere on his skin for the next five days.

Hyunwoo pulls Hyungwon toward him, releasing his hands at the last second to wrap his arms around his thin waist. Naturally, easily, Hyungwon’s arms find their way around his neck.

Hyungwon grins at him. “Can we get in the water for just a few minutes?” He brushes his lips along the corner of Hyunwoo’s mouth, moves them along a path over Hyunwoo’s chin and up his jaw to his ear. “Please,” he whines. “We won’t go too far.”

And Hyunwoo knows better but he also can’t resist. Still, he shakes his head again. “What if the tide—“

The fit of their lips is a little awkward when Hyungwon pieces their mouths together, but their jagged edges smooth out quickly.

“Let’s get in the water?” Hyungwon asks again, soft sing-song voice muffled against Hyunwoo’s lips.

When he draws back, Hyunwoo immediately nods, in a love daze, and lets Hyungwon lead him to water.

It’s not the tide that drags Hyunwoo under.


	4. driving lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: kihyuk road trip

Kihyun drops his seat as far as it'll go, folds his hands over his stomach, and stares at the interior ceiling of the beat up car Minhyuk bought for $230 off E-bay two years ago. He plays with his fingers for a moment, mind going blank as ABBA's greatest hits plays through the speakers.  
  
"So...," he sucks in a deep breath, "...when are you going to acknowledge that we're lost and pull over for directions?"  
  
He sees Minhyuk turn to glare at him out of the corner of his eye. There's a weird stain on the ceiling and Kihyun can't tell if it's the unfortunate splatter of a long dead bug or barbecue sauce. Knowing Minhyuk, it's probably the latter.  
  
"We're not lost, Kihyun." Minhyuk taps his fingers on the wheel and ups the speed of the cruise control. With the sky just barely beginning to brighten as the sun rises, the long stretch of highway through the plains is nearly empty. "And even if we were, the next rest stop isn't for...a while and I've seen enough horror movies to know better than to stop in some random, sleepy country town."  
  
Kihyun knew agreeing to Minhyuk's idea of driving cross country for their week-long spring break would be a mistake. He knew...and yet the romantic imagery his mind conjured up of sharing motel beds (which he now knows is annoying because Minhyuk kicks in his sleep), singing together to the radio (the ABBA cd has been stuck in the player for the last two days), and exploring the country (it's nice when they're not _lost_ ) made him forget that spending more than five hours with Minhyuk is the first ingredient for a raging headache.  
  
"Minhyuk, give me the map so I can find a place where we can stop."  
  
Minhyuk tsks. "Kihyun, people who can't drive don't know how to read maps."  
  
It's a good thing no one else is on the road, because when Kihyun sits up and lunges across the gearshift to steal the map, they definitely swerve over two lanes.


	5. test of strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: hyungwon wants to wrestle but he just keep getting pinned by kihyun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just reread this for the first time since i filled this prompt on cc a month ago and oh my god, the cringe at the end. im sorry lol

“There’s no way Kihyun is stronger than Hyungwon. Look at how tiny he is.”  
  
“Yeah, but Hyungwon has uncooked spaghetti arms. No, Hyungwon _is_ uncooked spaghetti. He’s totally weak.”  
  
That’s the exchange that leads to Hyungwon dragging Kihyun to the multipurpose room after lights out. Kihyun sighs the entire walk across the camp, tired from almost two weeks of watching after hyperactive brats.  
  
“Can we not do this?” Kihyun asks, leaning in the doorway as Hyungwon flicks on the lights.  
  
“I promise I won’t tell anyone you lost and ruin your precious tough counselor reputation.” Hyungwon grins when he notices a few of the tumbling mats still out.  
  
“Listen,” Kihyun kicks his shoes off and follows Hyungwon to the mats, “we’ll do this once, I’ll win, and then you’ll let me go to sleep. Got it?”  
  
Hyungwon looks at him like he’s told the strangest joke. “You’re not going to win.”  
  
Waving his hands for Hyungwon to shut up and get into position, Kihyun does the same. Hyungwon is the first to make a move, reaching out to push Kihyun who catches his wrists and drops his own weight to bring them both down. Hyungwon gets his legs around Kihyun’s waist, already grinning, and Kihyun sighs again before rolling them over and using his grip on Hyungwon’s wrists to pin his arms above his head.  
  
“Did you really think you were going to win that easily?” Kihyun raises a brow and he takes in the shock on the other counselor’s face.  
  
Hyungwon frowns. “One more time. You can’t hold onto me for that long.”  
  
“Fine,” Kihyun sighs and rolls off Hyungwon. “But no matter how many rules you add, you’ll always end up on your back and under me so you might as well accept your place now.”


	6. just not in the cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: with Minhyuk’s advice, Hyungwon visits a fortune-teller and checks for his compatibility with his bf Kihyun, which turns out to be low. Hyungwon chooses to initiate break-up.

Hyungwon stares at the cards spread out before him, unblinking. He curls his hands into fists where they rest over his knees as his mind races like a sports car. He hears the voice of his boyfriend echoing in his head, saying: “Babe, those fortune tellers are all scam artists. There’s no such thing as predicting your life through some random cards.” It plays over and over again under the sound of the fortune teller sitting across from him telling him that it probably wouldn’t work out between them, that his current relationship would most likely end in crippling heartbreak.  
  
Hyungwon loves Kihyun with his entire heart but he’s also always been a believer of fate. If...if it’s not going to work out, it’d be better to leave early and with good memories, wouldn’t it?  
  
The fortune teller asks if he’s okay and Hyungwon nods, thanking her for the reading before sliding out of the seat and leaving the place.  
  
The ride home is filled with many thoughts and by the time Hyungwon makes it back to his apartment, he’s still unsure of everything. Of the truth of the fortune, of the future of his relationship, of what is the right thing to do.  
  
Entering his apartment to find Kihyun cooking in his kitchen, is not what he needs.  
  
“Kihyun? What are you doing here?”  
  
Stirring something, Kihyun glances over his shoulder. “We had dinner plans, remember? I guess your phone is off. I texted you when I noticed you weren’t home.”  
  
“Oh...” That’s right. Kihyun was going to come over and they were supposed to have a nice night in. “Sorry, I forgot.”  
  
Kihyun shrugs. “It’s okay. I’m used to bringing my key just in case you’re asleep when I come.”  
  
Hyungwon hums and plays with his fingers. When he thinks about it, they’re such different people...without very much in common. But relationships can work despite that right?  
  
Could he break up with Kihyun?  
  
“Hey, babe, come taste this.”  
  
Maybe he can, but maybe not tonight.


	7. lazy, sleepy mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Half awake hyungwon dry humping kihyun in the morning who’s trying to make breakfast!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **this one is rated m for maybe there’s some mature stuff happening ******

Kihyun leaves the heated stove for a moment, walks the few steps down the counter to where the coffee machine sits, and takes the tall green mug from beneath the spout. Returning to the stove, he lifts the mug and scents the french vanilla blend with a sigh. It’s an easy Saturday morning — quiet and tranquil, just like he likes it. After a hectic week, it’s nice to have the time to relax, to go about his day at his own pace.  
  
He chances a sip and then leaves the mug on the counter out of the way. A round slice of ham currently sizzling pops in oil and he’s quick to take it out of the pan and place it on a napkin covered plate to cool.  
  
He hears the creak of movement in the hallway and it’s only a moment later that bare feet are slapping against the kitchen tiles behind him.  
  
“You’re up early,” he says, checking on the simple chicken broth simmering on the side.  
  
His boyfriend hums and then arms are fitting around Kihyun’s waist and hair is brushing against his jaw. “It was cold,” complains Hyungwon, mouth tickling Kihyun’s neck as he speaks.  
  
Kihyun pats Hyungwon’s arm. He’s used to Hyungwon hanging all over him like this, sleepy and craving attention. It’s not necessarily a surprise when Hyungwon fits a leg between his own and presses in tight, lightly rutting against Kihyun’s hip.  
  
Kihyun chuckles and flips over another slice of ham. “Someone’s needy.”  
  
Hyungwon noses along Kihyun’s jaw, slow and sluggish, and circles his hips again, moaning softly. It’s cute, how shameless Hyungwon can be when he barely can even open his eyes.  
  
“Won, I’m trying to cook,” Kihyun chides but he doesn’t mind, a small fire lighting within him as it so easily does.  
  
“Mhm,” Hyungwon mumbles back, still working his hips in a lazy rhythm. He scrapes his teeth over where Kihyun’s neck blends into his shoulder and Kihyun exhales a heavy sigh.  
  
“Hyungwon, all I need is another five minutes.” He needs more than that, but he knows that’s not what Hyungwon wants to hear. “Go back to bed and I’ll join you and then we can eat.”  
  
Hyungwon doesn’t seem to listen, continuing to work himself up against Kihyun’s hip, but after a minute he pulls away with a sigh. “Five minutes?”  
  
Kihyun turns over his shoulder to peck his boyfriend's sleep-puffed lips. Hyungwon stares down at him with drowsy half-lidded eyes. “Five minutes.”


	8. a toy story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: WAIT OKAY SO what about hyungwon is an insomniac and Minhyuk just hates sleeping and that's how they meet and then idk stuff happens?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry the pacing is weird and the ending is so abrupt, nothing i tried to end it with sounded right

After dark, when the sun is tucked into his blankets, the moon watching over, just as they promised one another, even the brightest places are melancholic. Lights flash and blind; twinkling, upbeat music plays; wide smiles are everywhere (sewn beneath beady eyes on plush faces); and it’s all a bit lonely.

Empty.

At two a.m. on a Tuesday night, no one is at the 24-hour game center a fifteen minute walk from the nearest train station. No one but the few employees and the man who drags himself in a few times a month with dark lens sunglasses and a permanent frown -- Chae Hyungwon.

Hyungwon taps the blinking red button next to a short, fat joystick and watches as the wide claw descends like a vulture with a broken wing on the Snoopy plush leaning heavily against one of its many twins. The fingers of the claw grip the plush and raise it into the air. As soon as the claw jerks to the left, in the direction of the open chute, Snoopy freefalls to land a stunning three centimeters away from freedom.

Sighing, Hyungwon opens his wallet for another one thousand won.

“Come on, come on, come on-- _No_!”

With a violent flinch, Hyungwon drops his wallet. The coins inside scatter, sliding this way and that. He watches as two coins roll beneath the machine in front of him. The one that’s already stolen twenty thousand won from him while refusing to give him a stupid Snoopy doll.

He doesn’t have the energy to groan and complain as he bends down and begins to pick up his money.

“Oh, I thought I was alone in here.”

It’s not one of the night staff. None of them have a voice that runs over the skin like ginger on the tongue.

Raising his head, Hyungwon gets a look at eyes that twinkle like the lights on the machines, like the stars they can’t see in the city. Even with stray strands of milk tea brown hair falling into them, there is no masking their wakefulness. Too much in this place, at this time. For as many nights as Hyungwon feels uncomfortably awake, he never actually feels _awake_ , not like the man before him seems to be.

Those eyes drift to the floor and then the man crouches with creaky bones and reaches his hand out to help.

“This is the best time to come, right?” the man asks with a small smile. “No one around to see just how much money you’re spending on these rigged machines.”

Hyungwon huffs out a laugh. “Is there a good time to come if you’re losing money?”

The man shrugs. “The only purpose of having money is to spend it, no?” He hands over the two coins he picked up to Hyungwon who takes them with a short nod and a thanks. He stands while Hyungwon looks around to see if he missed any.

Aside from the two he knows he’ll never get back, everything has returned safely to his wallet, and so Hyungwon stands as well.

“So which one are you going for?” the man asks.

“Snoopy.”

The man ‘ah’s. “I have my eye on the Gudetama pillow on the other side.”

Hyungwon nods. He won that pillow two weeks ago when they switched out some of the prizes. “It’s nice. Really soft,” he says.

The man groans. “Don’t tease me. I almost had it yesterday but someone snatched it when I walked away for a second to exchange my money.”

Hyungwon nods again, adding a sympathetic hum. “Is that why you’re here in the dead of the night?”

The man’s laugh is smokey and fills Hyungwon’s chest with warmth. His eyes crinkle and his grin stretches wide. “Yeah and no. It’s a little bit of boredom and a little bit of determination,” he explains. “How about you?”

Hyungwon shrugs and wonders if the bags under his eyes look like black holes in the middle of all this starshine. “Couldn’t sleep and I don’t live that far away.” As if on cue, he yawns.

He gets another laugh. “Looks like you might be able to now.”

Hyungwon knows that he’s already fucked everything up for himself, that if he was to go back to his apartment, he’d lay in bed for at least another two or three hours before finally drifting off. So, he laughs along with the man and waves off his words.

“Do you need help with the pillow? I think I’m going to take a break from Snoopy.”

“Sure!” The man starts to turn to walk back to his machine before he remembers something with a clap of his hands. “I’m Minhyuk, by the way.” He stretches out a hand.

“Hyungwon.”

 

Hyungwon doesn’t usually go to the game center that often but he ends up dragging himself there to see if Minhyuk, the man who apparently needs so much excitement in the dead of the night that he plays claw machines, is there.

The second time they happen across each other a week and a half has passed and Minhyuk asks about his sunglasses.

“It’s too bright in here,” Hyungwon says, jiggling the control stick with experienced fingers. “Too much light isn’t good at night. Makes it hard to sleep.”

“I think sleeping is a waste of time,” Minhyuk says the fourth time they meet up.

They still don’t coordinate anything, still haven’t exchanged anything other than their names and the tricks they’ve learned to beat the machines at their own game, leaving it all up to chance. The spontaneity is interesting, but Hyungwon has started feeling disappointment when he comes to the arcade and Minhyuk doesn’t. Which was what spurred him to ask why Minhyuk is awake so late in the first place.

Eyebrows pulling together, Hyungwon looks over at Minhyuk who has his face pressed flush against the glass case as he tries to maneuver the claw exactly where he wants it. “What?”

An answer doesn’t come until after the claw drops an Apeach plush just a hair away from the chute and Minhyuk screams, forcing his nose flatter against the glass.

“I mean,” Minhyuk starts after he’s calmed down. He slides another coin in, “You’re not doing anything but laying there. Think of what you could do in that time.”

“Stuff like wasting money on stuffed toys at three in the morning?” Hyungwon asks incredulously.

A part of him feels offended knowing that Minhyuk doesn’t seem to recognize how valuable sleep is. Hyungwon hasn’t known a regular sleep pattern, hasn’t been able to turn his brain off before four a.m. in months. But at the same time he doesn’t want to fault Minhyuk for his weird outlook on sleep. Hyungwon’s problems aren’t anyone else’s and it’s Minhyuk’s boredom that brought them here today.

“No, not doing this. But in general. I only do this when I don’t have anything else to do.”

“And what do you do any other time?”

“Well, nothing right now,” Minhyuk says. He sighs when he once again doesn’t get the doll. “I just graduated and I'm taking my time finding a job. But I do freelance design sometimes and then I have personal projects that I work on.” He slides in another coin.

“Oh,” Hyungwon exhales, having nothing else to say.

“What about you?” Minhyuk glances over.

“Well, I’m still a student. I should have graduated this year too but instead of trying to ease the effects of my insomnia so I can go back to school again, I come here and spend the money for the tuition.”

The Apeach plush drops down the chute, sparking flashing lights and an obnoxious song. Minhyuk crouches down to grab it and he glances up at Hyungwon while his arm is trapped between the bottom of the game machine and the flap door. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound good for you.” Looking down to pull out the doll, he continues, “But I guess that makes sense. You _did_ say you couldn’t sleep before.” He stands. “What brings you here instead of staying home and doing something more relaxing?”

“It makes me more restless…sometimes,” Hyungwon adds the last word as an amendment. “I can only try to relax but so much before I start stressing over how I probably won’t get to sleep. At this point, I think my insomnia is mostly psychophysiological than anything.” That’s more information than Minhyuk probably needs, but the other man still nods and hums like he understands and cares.

Minhyuk turns the doll in his hands a few times before offering it to Hyungwon. “I hope it doesn’t upset you when I say that even if it’s not good for you, I’m glad you come here.”

Hyungwon’s stomach leaps. He reaches out to take the plush. “I’m glad you don’t like sleeping. As weird as that is.” Holding Apeach in both his hands, Hyungwon presses his thumbs into the soft plush and hopes his cheeks aren’t as pink as the doll’s.

 

“Do you want to get coffee?”

They’re sitting in front of the money exchange machine during their seventh meeting, an armful of mini stuffed animal keychains scattered around them. Hyungwon looks up from the panda bear keychain he’s been trying to make do a handstand. He doesn’t know the exact time but it has to be after one-thirty.

“Now?”

Grinning lightly, Minhyuk shrugs. “I guess it’s too late for coffee. But I think I have hot chocolate too.

Hyungwon blinks. “You want to go back to your place?”

“Why not? Neither of us need more of these things so I thought...” he trails off.

“You haven’t even given me your number and you’re inviting me over,” Hyungwon points out.

“Do you want my number?”

Hyungwon tries to avoid Minhyuk’s eyes, looking down at the keychains. “Maybe.”

Dragging his phone out of his backpack — empty and only used to carry all of his winnings — Minhyuk pulls up the add contacts screen and holds the device out for Hyungwon to take. “I never thought you’d ask.”

Hyungwon’s brows pull together. “Why didn’t _you_ ask?”

“I like the surprise,” Minhyuk says. “It’d take the fun out of coming here without knowing if you’d be here and then getting all of the machines to myself when you weren’t.”

Hyungwon stops typing in his number to pick up the panda keychain and throw it at Minhyuk who tries to catch it, laughing wildly. He narrows his eyes at the other man before finishing inputting his information and calling his phone. He hands Minhyuk his phone back and finds his own, rejecting the call so he can save Minhyuk’s number as well.

“So…hot chocolate?” Minhyuk asks, tossing the panda keychain in the air.

And Hyungwon is quick to agree.

He lives in the opposite direction from Hyungwon, about a twenty minute walk from the arcade. From the outside, it’s an unassuming apartment — a boring caramel exterior and well kept flowers. The glimmering chandelier hanging and the suited man standing attention in the lobby makes Hyungwon freeze and then take several steps back.

Minhyuk pauses and turns around to look at him with a raised brow. “What’s wrong?"

Hyungwon’s eyes widen more as he looks at Minhyuk as if to ask ‘what do you mean, what’s wrong?’. “You don’t live here.”

Minhyuk snorts. “It’s not that extravagant,” he says, walking back to Hyungwon to grab his hand and tug him toward the elevator.

But it definitely is that extravagant. Minhyuk’s apartment is at least two times as big as Hyungwon’s cramped one-room and although most of his furniture looks like it might have come from IKEA, there are little things that reveal his wealth: things like the Supreme book bag sitting on the floor close to the door or the Givenchy sweatshirt hanging off the back of a chair.

It’s hard to look at Minhyuk, the man who has tried to break into the crane machines twice, and think of him as someone capable of having all of this. But then Hyungwon notices the family of stuffed animals on Minhyuk’s couch and when Minhyuk leads him into the kitchen there are takeout containers shoved messily into the trash can, and the familiar comfort returns.

“Have a seat.” Minhyuk motions to a high stool sitting at the island in the center of his kitchen.

Hyungwon climbs onto it and folds his arms on the surface of the counter. “I guess this explains why you have so much money to waste at the arcade,” Hyungwon muses as he watches Minhyuk take out two mugs.

“Hm?” Minhyuk glances over for a brief second. “Ah, yeah, it’s old money.”

“So you’re a chaebol.”

Minhyuk slides a pot onto the stove and goes to his fridge. He shakes his head, laughing again. “No, I’m not that rich.”

Hyungwon looks around, murmuring ‘not that rich, huh’ under his breath.

When Minhyuk finishes preparing the drinks and hands Hyungwon a hot cup, he suggests they move to the living room.

Hyungwon cradles the mug to his chest as he follows. Minhyuk is extremely careful as he moves a huge penguin plush out of the way and, for some reason, that sends more warmth through Hyungwon’s chest than the hot chocolate does when he finally tries a sip.

“Geez, I have so many of these,” Minhyuk grumbles as he takes a seat. He grabs the remote control from the arm of the couch and turns on the flat screen television hanging on the wall.

Their thighs squish when Hyungwon sits. He could have moved the dolls around but the idea doesn’t come to mind until it’s too late.

Neither of them really mind.

“You should see my place. I definitely don’t have as much space so it looks like a toy store.” Hyungwon sighs into the rim of his mug. “But that’s what I get for going to see you so often.” When he doesn’t get a response, he glances up at Minhyuk who stares back with soft lidded eyes and close-lipped smile. “What?”

“You’d stay even if I wasn’t there?” Minhyuk turns his body slightly, his knee pressing into Hyungwon’s leg. “I thought it was boring without you. And you know I don’t like boring things.”

Hyungwon nods, blushing a pale pink. He doesn’t miss the color to Minhyuk’s ears. “I know you don’t like boring things.”

Clearing his throat, Minhyuk turns his attention to the television and flips through the channels. He doesn’t scan through very many before opening his mouth again.

“I don’t want to go to the arcade anymore.” Pausing in his search, Minhyuk turns to Hyungwon again. “But I found this chill late night music bar that projects the stars all over the walls so it looks like you’re outside and there are sleeping bags and bean bag chairs. ...If you wanna check it out sometime.”

Hyungwon imagines lying by Minhyuk's side, listening to soft, acoustic music and looking at the artificial stars. It sounds relaxing and… "Romantic."

And he didn't mean to say that aloud but Minhyuk smiles bashfully and scratches at his cheek.

"Yeah, I was kinda hoping you'd think so."

Hyungwon's heart stutters. "It wouldn't be too boring for you?"

Minhyuk shakes his head. "Not if you're there with me."


	9. at midnight, the sun shines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: shownu who works a job that keeps him working late and exhausted and hyungwon is the barista that works alone during midnight shifts at the 24 hour cafe near his office n keeps him alive via espresso shots and pretty smiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um, another rambly piece by me. tbh i felt like i could keep writing this, i hope you like it dear <3
> 
> me, at me: stop making your endings so abrupt

It’s been a year and a half. 

A year and a half of sitting in a small, dank room with a tiny light bulb that’s as yellow as his supervisor’s teeth after decades of smoking tobacco, and a ceiling fan that sprinkles dandruff like dust all over the place no matter how many times he’s tried to clean.

A year and a half of alternating between squinting at the split screen of the monitor that probably hasn’t been updated since the black and white television was invented and roaming the empty halls, on the lookout for intruders who have better places to trespass and rob.

A year and a half of listening to anime openings for the better part of many of his nights and going home unable to stop hearing the screechy instrumentals and vocals that he’s convinced are only one kilohertz away from being the same sound dog whistles make.

A year and a half of this and Son Hyunwoo has wondered if he should have joined the police force instead for a great majority of that time.

The song currently fading out suddenly explodes into the start of a new one and Hyunwoo’s partner sits up in his uncomfortable, hard-backed and hard-seated chair.

“I love this song!”

Although he should; it’s _his_ playlist.

Hyunwoo takes his eyes off the camera footage for Gallery 7 and turns to his partner. “I thought this was on repeat,” he says. Granted, his ears start blending out all of the noise after about twenty-two minutes and it’s been almost three hours since Hyunwoo clocked in.

Minhyuk, the man he (unfortunately) sometimes shares half of his shifts with, ignores him in favor of singing along and Hyunwoo sips in a long breath, flattens his palms on the table in front of them, and pushes himself up to stand.

“I’m taking my break.”

The music echoes in the empty halls as if to follow Hyunwoo and taunt him behind his back, and Hyunwoo almost wishes someone would attempt to rob the museum just to see how long they last with the auditory torture before deciding a bit of money for stolen pieces by small name artists isn’t worth it.

Outside of the museum, Hyunwoo stands in front of the back entrance and takes a deep breath of the late night air. The alleyway smells a little bit like the city — more like old trash and not like old trash and stale piss — but outside there’s nothing but the sound of night and the occasional emergency vehicle in the distance.

In the absence of Minhyuk’s godawful taste in music annoying him into wakefulness, exhaustion begins to settle heavily in Hyunwoo’s bones.

Shoving his hands in the pockets of his uniform slacks, he walks through to the main road.

The museum is located where the bustling city meets the quiet suburb, with little enough around for it to feel quaint and just enough around for it to not feel isolated. There aren’t many others out on the street at one thirty-six in the morning, almost all of the shops closed.

All but the 7-11 brightly lit up on the corner and a small cafe in the other direction with a navy sign with white bubble letters and shooting stars that they only turn on at night.

A dreamy instrumental track is playing softly over the speakers when Hyunwoo pushes open the door to the cafe. A few students are huddled over laptops at their respective tables scattered throughout and a businessman is pouring over a folder of papers. A couple is holding hands over their table, two mugs and a plate of a half-eaten slice of cake between them. Everyone glows under the soft blue lights of the cafe.

Hyunwoo walks up to the lonely counter where a man sits on a tall stool behind the register, bent over a thick novel.

The barista looks up, square framed glasses slipping down his nose and away from round eyes that brighten up like the stars on the sign outside (and like the ones they can’t see under the clouds).

“Welcome back,” the barista greets with a gentle smile as he slips off the stool.

It’s been four months.

Four months since Hyunwoo took a break during one of his solo shifts — the museum owner must know there’s little threat to the place to not consistently hire two security personnel and still allow them to take breaks — and noticed there was some place open other than the convenience store.

Four months since he first stepped up to the lone barista who almost always works this late and was greeted with that smile.

Four months since taking the barista’s offer of a hot americano with an extra two shots of espresso because he could hardly keep his eyes open and four months since he choked on said americano and was so graciously pat on the back as the barista apologized with tears of laughter in his pretty eyes.

Four months of this, a few nights a week, and Hyunwoo thinks he can go four more. And then another four. And another. Just for the barista’s warm smile that zings him with more energy than the coffee does.

“You look like you’ve been having a night,” the barista says, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Hyunwoo scrubs a hand over his face and holds back a groan. He sighs instead. “It’s definitely been a night and it’s barely halfway over for me.”

“So, what’ll it be?” The barista pulls up the sleeves of his light autumn sweater that quickly fall back down around his wrists. Hyunwoo has never seen him in a uniform and most nights he forgets to pin on his name tag. It’s there tonight, right over his heart, navy with plain white font that reads: Hyungwon.

“Surprise me,” Hyunwoo says,leaning against the counter and glancing down at the back cover of the book Hyungwon was reading. The upside down summary suggests it’s a romance novel and Hyunwoo can’t help but be endeared by that like he is with everything the barista does.

Humming, Hyungwon leaves the register without ringing anything up. He picks up a white mug, already knowing Hyunwoo is staying to sit instead of quickly returning to his post, and begins to make a drink.

Hyunwoo listens to the whistle and hiss of the machines as Hyungwon crafts his drink. He lets his eyes slip shut and, although he’s been working the overnight security shift since finishing his law enforcement training and is long used to being on a vampiric schedule, sleep calls for him.

“You can sit.”

Hyunwoo peels open his eyes and looks at the barista who is glancing back over his shoulder.

“I’ll bring it over to you.”

The security guard’s brows draw together in confusion. “But I haven’t paid yet.”

Hyungwon hums again, a musical ‘ _yes, I know_ ’. “Go sit.”

Obeying, Hyunwoo walks down the counter to take his usual seat at the end of the bar where there are a few stools. He perches atop one and folds his arms on the counter.

Soon, Hyungwon comes with his drink and sets it on a thin napkin. He then returns to the register in order to drag his own stool over to place in front of Hyunwoo.

“Do you mind?” he asks, only sitting when Hyunwoo shakes his head and gestures for him to sit. “I thought you’d come in later.”

Wrapping his hands around the mug, Hyunwoo revels in the warmth of the stoneware. “Needed some peace.”

“Not six shots of espresso?”

Hyunwoo looks down at his drink with alarm. “You put six shots in here?” He’s not a cop, but in the profession that would be the first cousin of the police, one would think he could guzzle coffee like it’s mountain spring water, but he really balances on the line of tolerance and extreme dislike.

Hyungwon laughs and the sound itself feels like an extra shot of espresso. “No, just three.”

Hyunwoo narrows his eyes suspiciously and Hyungwon reaches over to slap his arm, still laughing.

“Why don’t you trust me?”

“After you tried to kill me last week?” Hyunwoo grins. “No chance.”

“It was basically an ordinary drip coffee. It’s not my fault you have a boring job that makes you sleepy but you hate coffee.” Hyungwon rests his elbows on the counter and cups his chin in his hands. “And you don’t drink energy drinks either.”

A cheesy line comes to Hyunwoo then, about organic methods of finding energy and one of them being Hyungwon’s eyes, Hyungwon’s smile, Hyungwon’s laugh, Hyungwon, but Hyunwoo doesn’t know if that’s a line to be crossed. Perhaps four months of being the sun during Hyunwoo’s long nights was unintentional; perhaps Hyungwon never meant to steal Hyunwoo’s heart in the dead of night, right from under his nose that tiredly sniffed the raw bitterness of coffee wafting through the air.

“I just needed a little kick,” says Hyunwoo, “not a full body tackle.”

Hyungwon tilts his head, eyes still glittering, smile still shining. “It woke you up though, didn’t it?”

Exhaling an exaggerated sigh that only adds to Hyungwon’s amusement, Hyunwoo lifts the mug in his hands to his face. He blows over the top, watching the liquid ripple.

“Have you eaten lunch yet?”

Hyunwoo hums a small noise of question as he curls his lip over the rim of the mug and takes a careful sip. The taste of coffee scratches at his tongue but the lingering notes of spice are soothing.

He was going to run to 7-11 and pick up whatever he could find, never thinking to prepare for his ‘lunch’ break despite the near impossibility of finding something to eat this late.

Pulling the mug away, he licks over his bottom lip and shakes his head.

Frowning, Hyungwon sits up. He slides off the stool and scans over the room before disappearing into what Hyunwoo has always assumed is a stock room. In his absence, Hyunwoo drinks a little more of his coffee and tries to wake up.

When Hyungwon returns, he slides a plate topped with cheese and sliced ham sandwiched between two bagel halves onto the counter. There’s a hefty handful of plain, crinkled potato chips on the side.

Hyungwon climbs onto his stool again, resuming his position of resting on his elbows.

Hyunwoo blinks. “Thank you.”

“This isn’t the finest feast, but it’s better than nothing,” Hyungwon says, stealing a chip. “You should think about bringing lunch with you.”

“But then I’d have no reason to come here.”

Hyungwon chuckles. “You still have to come for the coffee,” he points out.

And Hyungwon himself.

Hyunwoo picks up the sandwich offered to him and takes a bite. “I could live without the coffee,” he mumbles around a full mouth.

“Then you have to come for me. I’d be lonely if I suddenly lost my only regular.”

Hyungwon grins at him, cheeks bunched beneath his fingers, and Hyunwoo can’t help the way his own lips lift at the sight.

“Well, I surely can’t be the cause of your loneliness.”

Hyungwon reaches out for another chip and nods. “It’d be very rude of you. Making me look forward to your visits only to suddenly stop coming.”

Hyunwoo’s eyes blow wide. “You look forward to me coming?”

One of the university students trudges up to the counter, sluggish with the weight of exhaustion and late night studying. Hyungwon steals another two chips as he stands. “Am I not supposed to anticipate seeing my favorite regular?”

“I thought I was your _only_ regular.”

Hyungwon huffs a laugh. “That doesn’t change what I said.”

And then he’s turning his back to Hyunwoo, offering the student a light smile and a look of understanding as she asks for a refill.

Hyunwoo can’t take his eyes off the barista and doesn’t feel a bit of shame about staring. When it’s so hard to see the stars, even out here on the edge of the city, he’ll take as many chances for a glimpse at this one.

After handing the student her change, Hyungwon turns to grab another cup to make her next drink. His gaze passes over Hyunwoo, who blinks but doesn’t look away, and he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip that is already blooming into another smile.

In some places, even at midnight, the sun still shines.


	10. a touch of fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: confessing their love to the wrong person (like wrong phone number, letter sent to the wrong person, wrong email etc.) Then they try dating instead. Any monsta x pair you wish!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHH i’m so sorry to whoever send this prompt like 80 years ago. i opened up for prompts and then promptly (ha!) went into crippling writer’s block for months. i swear i didn’t meant to take so long.
> 
> to anyone reading who might’ve sent me a prompt ten thousand years ago, i will write it! i don’t have as much free time to write but i’ll do my best to be quick now that i’m not blocked anymore.

“Stop staring at him,” Changkyun mumbles under his breath as he passes behind Hyungwon, elbowing the taller man in the back.

Hyungwon jolts forward with a soft ‘ow’, the polo shirt in his grip slipping and his clean folds unraveling. He draws his gaze from their manager across the store, currently in a conversation with a customer and smiling that customer service smile, and directs an unimpressed glance at his coworker.

Changkyun raises an eyebrow like he expects Hyungwon to say something in denial.

Letting the shirt in his hands come completely unfolded, Hyungwon starts over. “I’m just nervous, okay? I shoved a note in his locker asking him out for dinner sometime when I started my shift and —“

“I don’t know if that’s cute or upsettingly juvenile.” Changkyun picks up one of the other shirts waiting to be folded so it looks like he’s busy instead of simply talking.

Hyungwon tucks in the sleeves of the shirt he’s folding. “Yeah, well I didn’t ask what you think about it so shut up,” he snaps. He already knows how weird it is for an adult to basically leave a love letter instead of confronting their crush in person. “Anyway, he gets off work soon which means he’s going to see it.”

“Or he’s going to mistake it for trash and throw it away.”

Huffing out another noise of annoyance, Hyungwon carefully arranges the shirt with the others set up on the display and reaches for another. “The pessimism isn’t needed, thank you, Changkyun. You can honestly leave if you’re just going to be contrary for the sake of a joke,” he says, becoming a little more aggressive in his folding as he speeds up, wishing to be done. “I already said I was nervous. I don’t need you to hold my hand and tell me it’ll go well but you could at least not be a dick.”

He and Changkyun generally get along rather well; Hyungwon would consider them friends as far as relationships between coworkers go. But Changkyun is one for bitter humor and sometimes he isn’t great at reading other’s emotions — or maybe he is and doesn’t care. Either way, they clash a bit in these times, where Hyungwon doesn’t find him funny and doesn’t have the patience to pretend.

Laying his own folded shirt amongst the rest, Changkyun frowns at Hyungwon for moment before sighing. “Alright, my bad,” he apologizes. “I mean, Hyunwoo is a decent guy so even if it does go south, I don’t think he’ll be an asshole about it.”

“Not like you’d be.”

Changkyun snorts and nods. “Not like I’d be.”

And because it is in Hyungwon’s best interest to focus his attention on something else lest he stew in anxiety over if he’s going to ruin the comfortable manager-employee relationship between him and Hyunwoo, they switch topics to the guy who tried to steal the lipstick testers from the Etude House across the hall yesterday.

Contemplating if the thief wanted to wear the used lipstick himself or attempt to make clones takes Hyungwon’s mind off of Hyunwoo long enough that he doesn’t notice his manager finishing his conversation with the customer and disappearing into the back rooms.

It isn’t until Hyungwon and Changkyun have finished the shirt display and Hyungwon is walking over the clearance racks that he catches Hyunwoo walking out from the back rooms with his jacket slung over his arm and his phone one hand.

Hyunwoo looks over at him and shoots him a wide, friendly smile that makes Hyungwon’s heart do a tiny flip. “See you tomorrow, Hyungwon.”

Hyungwon nods, returning the smile with a tiny one of his own. Then, he blinks. “But we don’t work the same shift tomorrow.”

Hyunwoo laughs. “I switched with Kihyun,” he says. He lifts his hand in a wave. “See you.”

It’s not until he’s already left he store that Hyungwon realizes he didn’t say anything about the note.

Did he see it? Did he take it and just not read it yet? Did he throw it away? Was him saying he switched shifts with Kihyun some kind of cryptic answer?

The questions swirl around in Hyungwon’s head as he arranges the clearance racks because customers can never be bothered with putting things back where they found them. He’s trying to find the tag on a ‘fashionable’ ugly christmas sweater when someone clears their throat behind him.

Blinking, he looks over his shoulder to see another one of his coworkers walking into the aisle.

He grins immediately. “Oh! You’re here, Heon-ah?”

Jooheon, all fiery orange hair and subdued, sweet smiles, is one of Hyungwon’s more favored coworkers. He’s just a great person to be around, usually full of positive energy and undeniable charm. They don’t share many shifts together because Jooheon fits his time around his final year university commitments, but he’s a much better companion than Changkyun or he-who-shouldn’t-work-in-retail, Kihyun.

“Yeah.” Jooheon coughs again as he rubs at the back of his neck. “Um...I know this probably isn’t the time for this, but it’ll stay on my mind and you’ll clock out before I do so I don’t want to accidentally miss you later but...” He lifts his other hand and pinched between his fingers is a square of paper. “I...got your note and I wouldn’t mind getting dinner with you sometime.”

Hyungwon’s heart stops in his chest and his mouth pops open in surprise and a bit of horror. “Oh my god,” he can’t stop himself from saying aloud. He put the note in the wrong locker.

His dumb ass put the note in the _wrong_ locker.

Funny that of all the scenarios Changkyun thought up, this wasn’t one of them.

Color crawls into Jooheon’s round cheeks. “Sorry, I know this really isn’t the place or time for this but, like I said...” He plays with the little piece of paper, rolling the edges.

Hyungwon has to admit, the shyness is adorable and makes his chest warm.

“Actually, I’ve been kinda into you for a while. I never thought about actually trying, but I wouldn’t mind getting...closer,” Jooheon reveals, face now a healthy shade of pink.

Hyungwon blinks in surprise. “R-Really?!” His best friend, Minhyuk, tends to tell him that he’s oblivious but Hyungwon doesn’t know how he could miss that the younger man was interested in him.

Nodding, Jooheon chuckles shyly. “Yeah.”

That makes Hyungwon feel a little bad. He can imagine the happiness Jooheon is feeling right now. He doesn’t want to ruin that. But, at the same time, he’s not sure if he has to. A first date isn’t a commitment; it’s a test trial. It wouldn’t hurt to go out to dinner with him. Hyungwon’s attraction toward Hyunwoo isn’t anything that he would consider serious — that’s what the date was for, to find out if it one day could be — and he can’t say that he doesn’t find Jooheon cute and pleasant to be around. A date with him would probably be nice. Easygoing and full of laughs.

“Wow,” Hyungwon breathes. “Um...” He lets out a little nervous laugh of his own. “I wasn’t expecting that at all.” He quickly peeks at the tag on the sweater still in his hands and shoves it onto the right space on the clothes rack. “Putting that in your locker was actually a mistake but if you don’t mind then I don’t,” he says, turning to look at Jooheon who is unfolding the note to reread it again.

Hyungwon didn’t write Hyunwoo’s name on it; he could have gotten away with pretending it was for Jooheon the entire time, but that’s disingenuous.

Folding the note back into a small square, Jooheon looks up at him. “If you’re sure, then, yeah, I’d still like to.” He shrugs, still smiling. “Who knows; maybe it’s fate that you put in it my locker instead of who it was intended for.”

The cheesy romanticist in Hyungwon melts at those words. On the outside, he shrugs too and gives Jooheon a little coy smile. “Maybe it was.”

“Excuse me?”

The two salesclerks jump at the new voice and turn to see a woman trying to come into the aisle.

Jooheon quickly stuffs the note in his pocket and turns on his customer service smile. “Is there anything we can help you with?”

When she says she’s just looking, Jooheon takes that as his cue to actually get to work. Hyungwon catches his eye before he goes and mouths ‘later?’ to which Jooheon nods and lets another real smile slip.

Hyungwon may have made a mistake, and he might not hear the end of this from Changkyun as soon as he finds out, but Hyungwon has a feeling this might be for the better.

He checks the tag of another sweater and tries to calm his smile as the customer browses beside him.


	11. hot and cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Lolol so au where Minhyuk hates kihyun bc Kihyun's deodorant is cucumber scented and kh is just hella confused as to why this cute sunshiney guy is so hostile to him. (Kihyun prides himself on his hygiene and on always smelling clean and fresh.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well ya know what they say, slow and steady wins the race
> 
> uh, so the focus of this isn’t really on the prompt but...it’s there?

Kihyun’s first day playing volleyball with a few guys at the sports club a twenty minute bus ride away from his apartment goes pretty well.

The introductions aren’t as awkward as he thought they would be; they play a few good games, some he loses and some he wins; and by the time he leaves the sports club two hours and a half hours later, he thinks there’s promise in becoming close with the other guys.

It’s really casual — none of them are looking to show how skilled they are — and the atmosphere is great.

And yet, Kihyun still somehow ends up with a rival.

Or, at least, that’s what Kihyun thinks Lee Minhyuk is.

Nothing else but a rivalry would explain why the man would only look at him with narrowed eyes in the locker room after practice. They _were_ on opposite teams for some of the matches although Kihyun doesn’t think either of them are _that_ great at volleyball and there’s no need to compete over who is third best.

There’s also the possibility that Minhyuk just doesn’t like him based on first impression — which would be a shame since he’s so attractive. Even if Minhyuk is straight, Kihyun still could have appreciated the friendship of a hot man.

So, Kihyun prefers to assume it’s a classic rivalry.

The next time Kihyun goes to volleyball practice, Minhyuk gives him whiplash.

“Hey! Ready to play?” Minhyuk asks with a grin that’s bright and explosive when Kihyun walks onto the court and heads over to where they leave their things.

He’s in the middle of retying the laces of one of his shoes when Kihyun approaches to place his water bottle and sweat towel.

Kihyun grins back easy, the thought that maybe they weren’t in some weird competition to be most mediocre and that maybe Minhyuk doesn’t hate him passing through him at Minhyuk’s great attitude.

“Oh yeah, I want revenge on Jooheon for that cheap play during our last game,” Kihyun says. He stuffs a hand into the pocket of his shorts as he looks around the court. Some of the other guys’ stuff is already there but only he and Minhyuk are currently on the court.

Minhyuk laughs, grin sliding into a smirk. “Yeah, Heon’s great. Really nasty player, though. I think he played from high school all the way through uni.” Finishing with his shoes, Minhyuk stands and pats Kihyun’s arm goodnaturedly. “Let’s set up the net. Jooheon and Hyungwon are probably flirting in the bathroom or wherever they went.”

Kihyun blinks, surprised. “Oh, are they like a thing?”

Shaking his head, Minhyuk laughs again. “No, but they’ll get there eventually.”

They walk over to the storage closet where the poles and the net and the balls are. Kihyun hums to himself as he follows Minhyuk over.

“Can’t believe I didn’t pick up on that.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty obvious, in my opinion.”

By the time they get the poles locked in the floor plates and standing tall, Jooheon and Hyungwon stroll onto the court with Hyunwoo tagging along behind them. Jooheon and Hyungwon come over to help hang the net while Hyunwoo puts down his few things by the rest of their stuff.

“Hey, Kihyun! Glad none of the guys scared you away,” Hyunwoo says and pulls him into a quick hug after they’ve finished setting up.

Kihyun laughs. Aside from Minhyuk’s weird attitude last time, “They’re not a very scary bunch.”

Jooheon puffs out his chest and tries to say that he thinks he’s pretty scary but all it takes is a bark of laughter from Hyungwon to make him put on a huge smile.

They scatter around for warmups. Hyungwon and Hyunwoo chat amongst themselves while Jooheon has an entire personal routine of stretching. Kihyun somehow ends up jogging around the court with Minhyuk by his side, the two of them talking about work and life and the TV shows they’re binge watching currently. It’s a nice conversation, light and easy, and Kihyun figures Minhyuk was just having a bad day last time.

Hoseok can’t make it, but a guy named Changkyun who wasn’t there the last time shows up to even out the teams.

Kihyun quickly realizes that Jooheon and Hyunwoo should never be on the same team, but despite losing miserably any time random chance puts them together, he and Minhyuk seem to bond over being completely demolished by them.

“Let me have some of your Pocari.” Hyungwon collapses onto the floor and reaches out for the huge bottle in Jooheon’s hands.

Jooheon swats him away. “You have water.”

“But electrolytes!”

Towel pressed to his forehead, Minhyuk shakes his head at the two of them. “Good games, guys. I’m heading to the lockers,” he says with a laugh.

Kihyun gathers his things, chuckling as well. “Yeah, I’m gonna go too.”

The others barely acknowledge them, knowing they’ll most likely run into each other in the locker room and that there’s no reason to say goodbye yet.

“Now that you pointed it out,” Kihyun starts as they exit the court and walk down the hall to the lockers, “I can definitely see it between Jooheon and Hyungwon.”

Looping his sweat towel around his neck, Minhyuk grins. “I don’t know why they’re moving in circles around each other like a bunch of kids.”

“They’re cute, though.”

As it turns out, they left their bags in lockers almost directly opposite from each other. Kihyun unzips his duffle and takes out the change of clothes he prepared and some body spray to mask the smell of his sweat on the bus ride home. (There’s showers available to use, but Kihyun would rather be a little musty for twenty minutes than use them.)

Peeling off his shirt, Kihyun folds it before shoving it into his bag. He gives the can of body spray a few good shakes before giving his underarms and chest a light spritz.

“What the _hell_?”

Furrowing his brows, Kihyun looks over his shoulder at Minhyuk whose face is twisted in absolute disgust.

“What?” Kihyun asks, wondering what happened to cause the outburst.

He flinches back when Minhyuk glances at him, eyes narrowed in the same glare as the one he gave Kihyun last week.

Turning away, Minhyuk finishes freshening up, movements faster and more aggressive as he rushes. “What is up with you?” he mumbles to himself.

Somehow, Kihyun knows it’s directed at him. Crossing his arms over his chest, he looks at Minhyuk with similar annoyance. “No, what is up with _you_? You’re polite in the beginning and then you give me this sudden attitude. Is there a reason why you’re so two-faced?”

Minhyuk whirls around, mouth open like he’s ready to argue, but then his nose twitches and he covers it with a hand. “Your spray smells disgusting.”

Kihyun’s annoyance drops into confusion. _That’s it? His body spray?_ “It’s cucumber.”

“Yeah.” Minhyuk rolls his eyes. “And it’s disgusting. I cant even stand here without wanting to gag. I don’t know how you can like smelling like _that_.”

Kihyun knows there’s a good population of people who are repulsed by cucumbers but he always thought it was just in relation to eating them. “You keep running hot and cold because my body spray smells like cucumbers,” he states rather than asks.

And hearing it seems to make Minhyuk realize how kind of ridiculous his extreme reaction is. He sighs. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a jerk. I just _really_ don’t like them and it’s kind of an automatic reaction.”

Kihyun snorts. “It’s alright. I don’t know what cucumbers have ever done to you but I’m relieved you don’t secretly hate me or something.”

“I think you’re pretty great, actually. Awful taste in body spray aside,” Minhyuk says, waving his hand in front of his nose.

Kihyun doesn’t even smell the deodorant that strongly anymore but he doesn’t have Minhyuk’s anti-cucumber senses. “So if I bring a different kind from now on, you won’t pull a complete one-eighty around me anymore?”

“Of course not. And I’m sorry again. I know it’s weird.”

Kihyun shrugs. Now that the mystery has been solved, he doesn’t really care. It doesn’t make a difference to him what scent of body spray he brings.

He pulls on his clean shirt and quickly changes out of his shorts and into sweats. Then he looks at Minhyuk again. “Now that we’re cool, we should get drinks or something sometime.”

In the middle of changing his own shirt, Minhyuk raises his head. “Yeah, definitely. Maybe not after a practice but on the weekend or something.”

Kihyun smiles. “Yeah. What’s your number? I’ll text you.”

They both take out their phones and exchange numbers. After inputting Minhyuk’s number, Kihyun does something he hasn’t done since high school and changes Minhyuk’s contact name.

 

 **Lee Minhyuk** >> 🤢🥒


	12. bears like honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hyungwon calls support to get the blown lightbulb in his dorm fixed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: lightbulb showhyung
> 
> this is... a disaster. but it was fun to write so whatever

“student technical services,” answers a warm, honey tea voice from the other end of the line.

hyungwon’s got his feet in the air and his head hanging off the seat of his university provided, rocking desk chair. any time his balance shifts, it feels like he’s on the verge of death and its the most adrenaline he’s felt since the beginning of the school year.

“hey,” he replies plainly, pointing his toes and watching how doraemon’s face stretches out of shape. “i have a problem i was hoping someone would be able to fix.”

“yeah, sure. we have a few tech assistants available if you want to come in person or i can see if i can just help you over the phone,” says the honey voiced person.

hyungwon wants to call them honeybee. or barry. like the bee that hooked up with that woman in the bee movie.

“actually,” he bends one of his legs and it sends his chair rocking back. he feels brief terror run through his veins before his brain realizes he’s not falling, “i don’t know if either of those are going to work.”

he could attempt to work through the issue himself, but that would require a lot more effort than he’s willing to put out.

“uh,” the honey voice turns to smoke and gravel for a moment with the noise. “what exactly do you need help with?”

hyungwon tilts his head back so his eyes are no longer on the ceiling but on the floor in front of his face. there’s a forgotten shrimp cracker peeking out from underneath the edge of his desk. he reaches for it but his arm isn’t quite long enough. “busted lightbulb.”

he feels the hesitation on the other end of the line although there's nothing but silence.

“you... do know this is tech support for electronics, right?”

“and is light not a component of electronics?”

a sigh. “it is, b--”

“i live in meonji hall. room five-sixteen. the auto lock is broken too, so you can just let yourself in.”

stars float in hyungwon’s eyes when he lifts his phone from his ear. honeybee is saying something, but hyungwon can’t pick out the details of what it is and doesn’t really care to before he taps his thumb to end the call.

 

nearly half an hour later, hyungwon is lying long in bed, christina’s aguilera's self titled  album playing on repeat from his phone. he’s just about to get to _come on over baby_  for the second time, when there’s a careful knock at his door.

the knob twists.

hyungwon glances over at his desk. he forgot to pick up the shrimp cracker.

“student tech services.”

honeybee sounds a lot more tired in person than on the phone. honeybee is also cute with round cheeks and disproportionately small yet full lips. like a teddy bear. maybe that’s why bears are always associated with honey.

maybe he should call honeybee honeybear.

“hi,” hyungwon greets, lifting his foot to waggle his toes in a wave.

christina wails like she's trying to outsing the entire world and honeybear blinks. blinks again. looks down at the floor.

hyungwon prays to christina's vocal cords that honeybear doesn't see the shrimp cracker.

“uh, are you the one who called about the light bulb?” honeybear eventually says, settling deep cocoa eyes on hyungwon again.

hyungwon glances up at the ceiling, where the light is. “yeah. it's been out for like,” he sucks his teeth, “four months.”

“and you didn't call housing services, who, by the way, are the ones who do this kinda thing and not student tech?”

hyungwon reaches for his phone and turns off the playlist. “i was emotionally and mentally compromised,” he says, sitting up and crossing his legs in front of himself. “did you bring a bulb?”

a stray concern about his hair that is surely birds nest, but make it oily passes through the front of his mind before turning around to go straight to the very back when honeybear furrows his brows and twists his mouth.

“no? i don't know what kind of lights the dorms use.” honeybear says, scratching his head. his hair looks clean and soft.

hyungwon's eyes cross when he looks at the curl of hair dangling between his brows. he pinches it between two of his fingers and twists, trying to make out individual strands. “why did you come then?” he asks, no real inflection to his voice.

when honeybear says “you hung up before i could give you the number for housing services” it sounds a lot like “to be honest, i don't know what the hell i'm doing here either.”

releasing his hair, hyungwon hums. he looks at the person standing awkwardly in his doorway. “hey, honeybear.”

“...honey  _ what?” _

hyungwon pauses in his train of thought. “do you like ‘honeybee’ better?”

honeysomething looks up at the ceiling - at the wall where hyungwon has taped glow in the dark planets and stars, at the window just past hyungwons’ head - perplexed, and then sucks in a breath. “i'd rather my name?”

hyungwon blinks.

so does honey. “it's hyunwoo.”

that makes hyungwon frown. “i didn't ask.”

_ hyunwoo _ matches his expression once more. “is this a prank call?” he asks. a crease forms between his brows.

hyungwon licks over his lips. “why would you think that?”

hyunwoo opens his mouth to say something and then seems to think better of it. hyungwon wants to ask him to say what's on his mind, but then he remembers what he was going to ask the tech student earlier.

“anyway, honeybear, as i was saying...since you're rather useless just standing there without a light bulb, would you like to get lunch with me?”

hyunwoo probably can't furrow his brows any more than he is right now. “are you asking me on a date?” he asks, incredulous.

hyungwon tilts his head to the side. “no? i know what the date is. i asked if you want to eat with me?”

they stare at each other for a moment, hyunwoo trying to piece together something in his mind and hyungwon staring back blankly, never blinking.

then, hyunwoo exhales an odd sound. “you're not human.”

hyungwon sighs and wonders where he's going wrong. “correct.”

“neptone?”

“andromedine. from px-201.”

hyunwoo makes a noise of understanding. “you're a distance away from home,” he says. “understandably not very good at blending in with humans.”

pouting, hyungwon crosses his arms over his chest. “i'm trying,” he says, voice small and childishly affronted. “humans are a strange species.”

“yeah, i get that,” hyunwoo agrees. “i'm martian.”

hyungwon perks up at that. “i would have never guessed.

hyunwoo shrugs. “i've probably been here longer than you have.” he doesn't look quite as put-off, eyes a little warmer. “i can't do lunch but i can call housing services for you and maybe we can do dinner or something.”

for the first time hyungwon smiles.

so does hyunwoo.


	13. all that glitters is gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: bracelet jookyun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all writing this has told me is:  
> 1) my brain is a little too overactive  
> 2) i do not know how to write jookyun
> 
> but i hope whoever prompted this enjoys it. even if it ends as abruptly as everything else i’ve written

[7]

changkyun grips his mother’s hand tight with tiny fingers, palms unexplicably damp as they usually are, and stares up at the temple. it looks like the bird’s nest in the tree outside their house, with a lot of wood and a lot of leaf, except the temple’s leaves shimmer gold even after the sun has gone.

changkyun doesn’t like birds and changkyun doesn’t like the temple.

“mama, i wanna go home,” he whines, tugging on her hand.

his mother looks down at him with eyes that glow bright and he looks down at his toes peeking out from the strap of his sandals. he doesn’t like when they do that, even if he knows his own will someday as well.

“we must say our prayers, dear.”

but changkyun doesn't very much care for the tedious routine of prayer, doesn't understand why they worship a god who never appears before their people. he's heard stories of gods who share the first harvest with their people - who join in festivals and walk the markets. why won't their own walk amongst the people?

the altar is always set on the night of prayer, with totems burning a blinding white and flowers of gold and sun arranged along the white stone steps leading to the altar. there are others inside, already begun the walk.

changkyun follows his mother to the baths and washes from his fingers to his elbows, then from his knees to his ankles. the warm waters cleanse of the outside impurity, leaving behinds speckles of sunshine glittered on his skin. he cups the water in his hands to drink, to cleanse of inside impurities, and it's like ice down the front of his throat.

he looks over at his mother, and when she smiles at him, eyes crinkling, it's like he's looking at the moon.

“you are loved.” she pulls a set of beads from a pocket in her long shirt and drapes them around changkyun's wrists. “your eyes are already beginning to catch the sunrise.”

changkyun grimaces.

his mother gets that look in her eyes, the one that says she’s going to kiss his forehead with damp lips, but she resists inside the temple.

“i was like you, too, dear. this mood will pass,” she says, like she knows all.

changkyun pouts and nods. his mother holds out a hand and he takes it, allows himself to be pulled to the edge of the temple so they can begin the walk.

the walk lasts until one has quieted their mind enough to release them of thoughts that will interrupt the prayer. changkyun never really stops thinking about wanting to go home, but he must wait until his mother is ready.

as they pass by the altar steps in their third revolution around the temple, changkyun spies a loop of golden beads on the lowest stair. he glances up at his mother. she has a distant look in her glowing eyes, mind nearly freed. slipping his hand from her own, changkyun scoops up the beads and returns to her side before his absence can break her concentration.

he holds the beads between pinched fingers. they don’t look too much different from his own; the shape is the same but the color is different — more vibrant.

looking around the temple, changkyun tried to find someone who has lost their beads. but no one seems to be worried about not having them and there are too many people for him to focus on an empty wrist.

frowning, he clutches the beads in his hand.

[13]

“why do you have two sets of beads?”

changkyun glances up at the boy standing by his side at the fountain, his closest friend, hyungwon. then, he looks down at the beads in his hand. the ones he's brought to the temple ever since finding them as a child.

he forgot to tell his mother about them after the prayer, and since then, it's felt a little too late to say something. at first he was afraid of getting in trouble for forgetting; as years went by, he figured the person who lost them had already replaced them. why he still carries them to the temple? mindless habit.

“double the bead, double the power,” says changkyun as he slides his own set of beads over his wrist. he rolls the beads of the second bracelet between his fingers before slipping them over his other hand.

before, he wouldn’t wear the beads, not knowing they were precious to someone else, but now he doesn’t think of them as much.

he nudges his elbow in hyungwon’s side. “let’s drink.”

hyungwon twists his lips in a curious frown but doesn’t push. by now, he knows better than that. when changkyun doesn’t want to reveal something, he won’t. no matter how much he’s pestered about it.

the water from the fountain is always warm on their hands and cool in their throats and changkyun sighs once he’s drunk enough to feel the sunrise in his veins. hands on the edge of the fountain, fingers dipped slightly into the water, changkyun closes his eyes and takes in a long breath.

he senses hyungwon move, probably leaving to start his walk. ever since getting their parents’ permission to go to the temple together instead of with familial supervision, they've gotten into the habit of praying late.

hyungwon says he feels better when the night is closer to day, and changkyun still feels like he only prays because he has to.

after the last prayer in the land under the god of harvest, there was a feast attended by their god, luda. perhaps it’s childish that changkyun feels the sour burn of jealousy every cycle of pilgrimage that does not see their own god of light amongst the people. he thought he would grow out of it, but no matter how long he walks around the temple and tries to quiet the dissatisfaction, it lingers.

sucking in another long breath, changkyun shakes his head clear of his loudest thoughts and turns to leave the fountain. he spies hyungwon on the other side of the temple, gait loose and eyelids drooping. they usually don’t do their walks together, for hyungwon tends to lose himself entirely in prayer in a matter of minutes while changkyun drifts and drifts and never quite reaches his destination.

by the time changkyun settles on his knees before the altar stairs, hyungwon is in the middle of his prayer. changkyun glances up at the empty throne before slowly dropping his head and closing his eyes.

he does the standard prayer — thanks his god for the sunrise, for warmth; wishes for continued grace, for the health and happiness of his family and his people. he may not enjoy the practice of prayer, but his heart is always in the words.

as he focuses on the sun in his veins, changkyun hears shuffling from around him. perhaps it’s hyungwon getting up to leave. changkyun doesn’t dwell on the intrusive thought. hyungwon usually finishes first. changkyun has grown used to finished his prayers to an empty altar room, his friend waiting outside to give him privacy.

when changkyun finally opens his eyes and looks around the expense of the altar room, the last of his prayer drifting from his mind, his gaze falls on a shock of white blond hair and even more vibrant eyes that do not belong to hyungwon.

[14]

“hi.”

changkyun blinks.

the altar room was empty near the rise of the sun changkyun arrived without an ill hyungwon, but now there is him and this boy. the same one he saw for a brief second after prayer last year.

“...hello,” changkyun says slowly. the boy reaches for him and changkyun takes a step back, eyes narrowing with mistrust. “what do you want?”

the boy’s own eyes grow wide and he cradles his arm to his chest like his hand has been burnt. “my beads.”

“your what?” changkyun looks at the boy’s wrists. both are bare. he takes another step back. “i don’t have anyone’s beads but my own.”

the boy shakes his head. “but you have mine there.” he points at changkyun’s left wrist, where the bracelet he picked up as a child hangs.

changkyun brushes against the gold beads with light fingers. he doesn’t know what’s wrong with this boy, but changkyun has never seen him before those few seconds last year before he left to go home. and they look to be around the same age. there's no way he could have lost his beads seven years ago and still remember what they look like, let alone be able to identify them confidently as the ones around changkyun's wrist.

“these aren't yours,” changkyun says.

frowning, the boy takes a tiny step forward. “they are.” his eyes are so bright; changkyun has never seen someone so young with such a blessing from their god. “i could never mistake my beads for another.”

“you’ve mistaken these. i’ve had them since i was a child, so-“

“i lost them,” the boy interrupts. “they slipped from my arm years ago, but i am only allowed to visit the temple close to daybreak so i wasn’t able to ask around for them. but then you were here last time, with hyungwon.”

one of changkyun’s eyebrows raises. “you know hyungwon? and how could you have lost them when i found them before daybreak?”

“so you admit they are not yours personally.” the boy walks closer still, and changkyun notices how even the balls of his round cheeks sparkle.

they do not wash their faces with the holy water, but changkyun supposed this boy has.

“i came secretly because an empty temple is lonely and i wanted to see my people. i know everyone in this land.” the boy smiles, full and with tiny indents in his glittering cheeks.

something close to fear settles in changkyun, whose heart quickens in his chest. “who are you?”

the sun greets good morning through the windows stretching across the height of the temple, the sky a vivid blue. the boy tilts his head to the side.

the bells in the town center ring loud and, distracted by the time, changkyun looks toward the tall entrance. he must home before his mother awakens lest she worry, but there is this strange boy.

[16]

“i am jooheon,” the blond boy says.

it's been two years since changkyun last saw him, since he looked away for a moment just for the boy to be gone when he turned back.

a part of changkyun had convinced himself the boy with the golden eyes and glittering skin was nothing more than a ghost or a vision raised from spiritual overload.

a curled strand of jooheon’s hair falls into his eyes that are just as golden. a part of changkyun still believes the boy to be a figment of his imagination. he’s never seen a boy so almost...ethereally handsome.

“you are changkyun.”

jolting, changkyun’s eyes widen. his mouth falls open but words take too much time to come.

“of lim, yes?”

“how...how do you know that?” no matter how much he searches his mind, he can find no trace of his boy in his memories aside from those within the temple. surely, changkyun would remember the only person he’s ever seen with golden hair.

jooheon laughs, and the way his glittering cheeks sink in is oddly satisfying to witness.

“i told you,” he chuckles again, as if changkyun is being silly, “i know all of my people.”

changkyun shakes his head. “what does that mean? there are so many villages within the vibrant lands. you cannot possibly know everyone.”

a small frown crosses jooheon’s face but there remains a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “and why cannot i?”

“there are too many! even i do not recall the names of everyone in my own village.” and it is such a small place, filled with people who always seem to have time to talk.

“well, of course not,” jooheon says. “mortals tend to forget what they do not encounter often.”

“are you saying you are in such good relation with the entire land as to remember everyone’s name?” changkyun asks, voice loud and incredulous in the emptiness of the altar room.

jooheon barks out another loud laugh. now it is obvious he thinks changkyun is silly. hand on his belly, he waves frantically with the other. tears bud at the corners of his eyes and changkyun frowns, affronted.

“oh, heavens no,” jooheon gets out between his giggles. he wipes at his eyes, looks at changkyun between their mirth- crinkled shape, and then vanishes into thin air.

gasping, changkyun blinks like he has something in his eye blocking his vision and looks around the room.

“i’m saying i’m not mortal.”

a small pain shoots through changkyun’s neck when he whips around to face the stairs leading up to the altar. jooheon stands beside the throne, leaning up against the thick arm of the seat. the morning sun streaming through the windows behind the altar catches on the glitter on his tan skin, on his golden hair, on the white of his loose shirt. he’s beautiful and ethereal and godly.

changkyun feels his breath hitch and his heart stop. his eyes can’t grow any wider; his jaw can’t drop any further.

“m-m-m-my god.” he drops to his knees immediately and bows his head.

“i am just their son, changkyun,” jooheon says in a soft voice. “please stand.”

changkyun shakes his head. he’s been wishing for the presence of his gods for so long and when he is finally blessed, he argues with them. he’ll have to spend the rest of his life repenting.

he bows his head further when a hand lands on his shoulder. warm fingers drag to the collar of his shirt, up his neck, and settle on his jaw. he has no choice but to look up when jooheon lifts his head.

jooheon’s smile is closed-lipped and warm and, this close, changkyun can see the crackling of light in the depth of his eyes.

“i’m sorry,” changkyun whispers gravely. before he can beg for forgiveness, jooheon hushes him.

“what’s there to be sorry for,” he asks, voice light. “i’m not offended by anything. i’m a simple boy just like you.”

changkyun would scoff if he weren’t talking to one of his gods. just like him? changkyun cannot believe such blasphemy is coming from jooheon.

[18]

“but, can i have my beads?

inhaling sharply, changkyun all but yanks the bracelet from his wrist. he had forgotten they were the start of this entire ordeal.

“why did you not ask for them earlier?” he drops the beads in jooheon’s hands. it has been two years already.

jooheon closes his hand around the bracelet and folds his legs in a tangled shape. “i seem to recall you panicking the last time we met and last year, you came early.” he tilts his head to the side and taps his bottom lip in thought. “and i also seem to recall you not believing me when i asked for the beads the first time, so here we are. four years later.”

“you could have come for them at any time. you probably know where i live.” changkyun rubs at his wrist. he only ever wears the beads for prayer, but for some reason his skin feels bare.

jooheon snorts, nose scrunching. “it’d be weird if i knew where you live.”

changkyun can’t help but narrow his eyes at the son of his god. “it’s weird to know my house but not my name?”

“i don’t have a big book with everyone in the vibrant land’s personal information. everything i know about my people is from your prayers,” jooheon reveals.

oh. “...that makes sense.” he waves his hand, remembering their topic of the beads. “but still, you could have come earlier. stayed for longer or something.”

jooheon shakes his head and it makes curls fall into his face. “i’m not allowed to come any time other than right before the sun rises. i’m not allowed to leave the temple either.”

“why not?”

shrugging, jooheon fiddles with his beads. “mother worries a lot.” he slips the bracelet onto his wrist. “they fear the mortals will be unwelcoming if we are to walk among them.”

changkyun finds it strange that a god, one who holds power his mind cannot even fathom, would fear anything. “you do not think the same as our lord?”

“the scariest mortal i’ve ever met was a boy my age who argued with me about prayer beads. i think i’ll be okay,” jooheon replies, speaking so casually the joke in his words almost slips right by.

if jooheon were any other boy, changkyun would have reached over and playfully shoved his arm. before a god, he can only cross his arms over his chest and huff.

[19]

jooheon’s smile only grows wider. he never seems to stop being happy, like he exists only to laugh, loud and beautiful. he’s the son of the god of light but changkyun wonders if he isn’t the sun itself.

“you wanna know what keeps me coming back?”

“a desire to escape wherever you are outside of the pilgrimage season?” changkyun guesses from where he sits on the floor beside the stairs.

fatigue sits a little heavily behind his eyes as the sky begins to bleed orange. work in the fields has been tiring this season but he needed to pray — for his father’s health, for hyungwon who has left the village to study, for the harvest, for the young god who shines like a priceless artifact.

jooheon shakes his head. he has one of the candles wedged between his knees, unafraid of the wild flame.

“a moody boy who’s always a little distracted during his prayers,” he says. “at first, he’d only think about when he could go home, but now, he thinks about if it’s possible to pause the sun’s rising for more time.”

changkyun has never been one to blush easily but he feels a prominent warmth spreading into cheeks from his neck. jooheon wasn’t supposed to know that — that changkyun desires for more than the short period he sees the young god every pilgrimage. even now, on the cusp of adulthood, he can’t completely free his mind during the walk, but he has hoped the stray thoughts were quiet enough for them to slip past jooheon’s notice.

apparently not.

“i just think it’s unfair that you want to come but are only allowed for such a short period of time.” changkyun raises his nose and waves a hand arbitrarily.

jooheon laughs that laugh that makes the light crackling in his eyes flash bright. it’s that laugh that says he thinks changkyun is being funny. the one with just enough fondness to make something in changkyun’s chest tighten.

once jooheon calms himself, he hums. “thank you for being so considerate of me.”

changkyun rubs his upper arm and shrugs.

they both know changkyun wasn’t telling the whole truth. but, for now, they’re both comfortable with pretending.

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/monstazet)|[blr](http://at-tostitos.tumblr.com)|[cc](https://curiouscat.me/tosties)


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